


Change Isn’t Always Easy

by Zakani_Donovan



Series: Well, That Was A Thing (Good Omens One-Shots) [18]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Emotions are Complicated, Even supernatural beings can use a shrink, Fluff, Gay, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Light Sadness, M/M, Moving, Seeking professional help isn’t a bad thing, Speaking openly in relationships, good omens - Freeform, mental health
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:40:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25729819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zakani_Donovan/pseuds/Zakani_Donovan
Summary: Ever since they moved to the countryside, Aziraphale had some good days and he had some bad days. He didn't think leaving the bookshop would affect him so much, neither of them did. And yet, here he was many times, homesick in his new home. Yes, he still had his collection intact, personal belongings and knickknacks included, but it wasn't the same. He was happy, there was no doubt about it. Hell, that was the first thing Crowley asked one night when he noticed him crying by himself in a corner of his study.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Well, That Was A Thing (Good Omens One-Shots) [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1800655
Comments: 3
Kudos: 33





	Change Isn’t Always Easy

**Author's Note:**

> Context: Just a one-shot about the boys settling into their South Downs cottage and some unexpected emotions related to the big move. 
> 
> Inspired by thekaskproject-art's fan-art piece on tumblr.

Before you begin: [Note how lovely and happy they look here.](https://thekaskproject-art.tumblr.com/post/190739376153/commission-for-the-loveliest-emsiecat-who-wanted%20)  
  


Truth was, maybe Crowley should've seen it coming. Aziraphale had owned that place and called it home since 1800, of course it wasn't going to be easy for him to part with it! Emotionally, anyway. Physically though, the angel had practically miracle'd a 'For Sale' sign on top of the shop hours on the front door as soon as Crowley suggested they move in together. In an official sense, at least, since he was usually hovering over the angel in some way. 

Once they found the perfect South Downs cottage they started packing. Crowley's stuff fit into about ten boxes total, plants included. While Aziraphale had too many to keep track of. It was a good thing they still had their powers, because if not for their miracles, there was no way they would've been able to fit everything in the Bentley. It was almost comical. The whole backseat and the floors were completely covered in tiny boxes which could fit in the palm of a child's hand. They towered all the way up to the car's ceiling. Aziraphale was grateful that, while Crowley's driving was fairly reckless, the amount of times he had actually crashed into someone else was still just a solid 1, so he wouldn't **really** need the main rearview mirror for this trip. He was also grateful that Crowley preformed a little miracle of his own to ensure nothing in the boxes would break while in 'tiny mode' as he called it, so no amount of toppling over or throwing would actually damage anything.

Since the loading and unloading of the car was anything but strenuous, where they truly got tired was organizing all their belongings. Aziraphale had a whole system: Distinct shades of brown to identify the century the books inside were published. Different initials depending on the types of work. The word 'fragile' scribbled over the top of just about every book, the more underlined it was, the more delicate the objects were (for example: 1st editions he had no copies of, or a very rare printing error). None of Crowley's boxes had any type of distinguishing features, so they were easy to tell apart from the angel's. Thankfully, they had purchased the place fully furnished, so they only needed to focus on organizing their things how they wanted.

It took two straight days of none-stop working and putting everything in its new spot before they finally finished. Considering the amount of miracles they did during the move, they had decided to do the rest the human way, minus the sleeping bit. Crowley regretted it immensely. He was tired, he felt like shit and he needed a drink. Aziraphale, not as exhausted as his demon but fairly worn out as well, decided they had earned some time to relax. This is how they ended up sharing a few good bottles of wine as they soaked in the most aromatic bubblebath the serpent had ever experienced.

Now undoubtedly drunk and cleaner than before, they dried off as best they could and stumbled into their new bedroom. If he hadn't been so intoxicated, Aziraphale would've fussed about sleeping naked on the brand new bedsheets instead of in his incredibly comfortable pajamas and still dripping wet, no less. Crowley definitely didn't care, having fallen asleep as soon as he landed face-first on the bed. They slept for days, somehow, they even slept through their hangover. A true blessing in disguise, they figured.

Soon things turned incredibly domestic. Crowley would spend most of his mornings in bed, a vice grip around the principality's waist to ensure he didn't leave his side too early. Upon getting up, Aziraphale would either read or try to do some creative writing to entertain himself. In the afternoons, the redhead would go out to tend to his garden and sometimes the blond would sit on the back porch swing to watch him, or chat for a bit. Aziraphale would always bring him a drink and a snack while he was covered in dirt, tending to the foliage. Even if he technically didn't need it, Crowley never refused it. In fact, Crowley had taken to eating more since they moved in together. He even learned how to cook so he could make something for his angel every night. While he absolutely loved it, he didn't quite see that as fair, so he would help in the kitchen until he was shooed away by the grumpiest snake in the world. Their nights ranged from calm and quiet, to ravenous and loud. This is where having no neighbors really came in handy. All in all, everything had been perfect.

Until, however, that day Crowley made it back earlier than intended from the market and found Aziraphale crying in his study.

"Angel, what's wrong?"

The principality was startled and jumped at the sound of his voice. He turned, wiping away his tears. "Nothing, darling. Just reading something."

"Bullshit. At most, a book will get you to tear up, not sob. Something's going on."

The blond sighed and sat at his desk. "...I miss the bookshop."

Crowley's heart nearly stopped. "I thought you were happy here..."

"I am! Oh, dearest, no! I'm the happiest I've ever been! I'm just... I don't know..." He really didn't. Try as he may, he couldn't figure out why he was feeling this way.

Crowley crossed the room and knelt in front of him. "You're homesick."

He huffed. "That's ridiculous. I **am** home!"

"You spent over two centuries in that shop. We should've expected you'd react this way... Do you want to go back? Because I'll go to London and kick out whoever owns the place and shred their papers, make it look like they just waltzed right on in there while we were on vacation or something. I can-"

Aziraphale wrapped his arms around the demon. "No need, love. This is all I want." He whispered.

"Are you sure? Because I'll do whatever you want me to." Said Crowley as he returned the hug and buried his face in the crook of Aziraphale's neck.

The blond's fingers carded through that flame-red hair, caressing, reassuring. "I know you would, darling. Don't worry about it. I'm sure it'll go away eventually."

~~~~~

It didn't. Or rather, it came and went. It was a cycle. He'd be fine, something would remind him of the shop, he'd miss it, Crowley would notice, comfort him in any way he could think of (usually it involved copious amounts of cuddling and reassurances) and then he'd be fine again. Rinse, repeat. At this point, the demon was used to it. Like tonight, for example.

It was winter by this episode. His angel seemed a bit down so Crowley miracle'd up some hot cocoa, opened up a packet of chocolate chip cookies and readied the tray. He walked into the living room where Aziraphale was reading, and he looked up upon hearing the teacups jittering while Crowley made sure to balance everything.

"I didn't notice how long you were gone." Noting he only just started smelling the hot cocoa.

Crowley shrugged. "Don't worry about that. Here." He said as he placed the tray next to him, took the book from his hands and placed it on the nearby cabinet top.

Aziraphale smiled sweetly at the demon as he watched him sit in his usual spot on the couch. "You really didn't have to, love." Said the blond softly. He was always aware of when Crowley was trying to cheer him up. He valued it deeply, wishing he didn't feel this way at all.

As always, the redhead sank into his side of the couch as much as possible before inviting him into his arms. The angel wasted no time in snuggling up to his lover. Crowley, unable to help himself, held him close and pressed a kiss into the shell of Aziraphale's ear, which made the blond giggle.

"You know I never waste the chance to spoil you. Besides, I figured you'd like a snack. Haven't seen you eat anything in days." He said softly before kissing him again.

"I do appreciate everything you do for me. You are aware of that, yes?" Asked the angel softly as he all but climbed onto his lover's lap.

The demon nodded and held him tighter than before. "I know, angel... So, what brought it on this time?"

"The gramophone a few days ago, when it started playing Tchaikovsky. Reminded me of the time I put a 'Tchaikovsky' cassette in the Bentley's radio and it was anything but." Explained the blond.

Crowley chuckled, recalling Aziraphale's look of utter confusion when 'Another One Bites The Dust' started playing instead.

That had been during their search for the real Antichrist. The demon noted that most of the time, it would be a memory from that time which put the angel in this mood. There must be a reason for it, but he knew Aziraphale would talk about it whenever he was ready, so he never pried. He simply made sure to be there for him as much as possible.

~~~~~

About a year into them living in the cottage, the pair got married. It was a simple affair, mainly done because Aziraphale knew how much it would mean to Crowley. Personally, he didn't see the point in it. After all, they had known and loved each other for 6,000 years. It was a given that they'd spend eternity together. That being said, he knew his demon had his moments of insecurity and doubt when it came to their relationship. Expected to happen when you've had to lie for so long about what you really meant to each other. So, if signing that document and kissing him in front of a few witnesses would put him at ease, so be it. He'd do it a million times if it meant his other half would be happy. Besides the title change, everything around the house stayed the same. Unfortunately though, that **did** mean ‘everything’.

Aziraphale was still having these bouts with homesickness and he grew more frustrated because of it. This is how the pair ended up going to London one weekend. Aziraphale had assumed that maybe, if he saw the shop how it was now, he could finally move on. Crowley understood the logic, but he also worried about what his husband's reaction would be. As soon as they pulled up, the differences were incredibly obvious.

The outside had been painted a dark green and gold color-scheme. The sign no longer read 'A. Z. Fell & Co.' but 'The Flower Sisters' Happy Place'. The doors were wide open, no ridiculous work hours on the window, instead, a more normal schedule than Aziraphale ever had: Every day, 8:00 am - 8:00 pm. They stepped in and were taken aback by just how bright it was with none of the windows covered and without all the bookshelves. Not to mention the abundance of plants, decorative rocks, water features and pillows. There was a kalimba playing in the background somewhere. It was nothing like the bookshop.

A dark skinned woman approached. Her long, dark hair was straight, with some white hairs streaking down the middle of her scalp. Whether it was natural or dye, she made it look good either way. She tied it into a ponytail as she walked towards them. Her eyes were dark brown, and they were very bright. As was her outfit, a neon orange romper with a dark blue belt which matched her headband.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen. I'm Violet Hill. How may I help you today?" Her voice was soft, just as soothing as the former bookshop looked.

Aziraphale seemed to snap back to reality when she spoke. He blinked several times before giving her a response. "So sorry, my dear. I'm a bit distracted. Um- what exactly is it that you do here?"

"No need to apologize sir, there are times when we all have our mind somewhere else." She reassured him with a smile. She walked to the main desk and retrieved two pamphlets to give them.

"This is a little safe haven for people who feel a bit too overwhelmed by the city and need a break. Here, they can come to relax. To think. Be alone. Deal with their anxiety in peace. Whatever they might need on a rough day." She explained.

Crowley skimmed through the reading material, while Aziraphale simply kept looking at their surroundings.

"You may take a look around, if you like." She said, knowing that there was something on the blond's mind that may benefit from the ambiance. "Although, I'll need you to put this bracelet on first."

Aziraphale looked at what she was holding out now, it was a simple rubber bracelet. One color on the outside, one on the inside.

"If you prefer the staff not interact with you, have the red on the outside. If you're fine with them approaching you, make sure the green is visible instead. There's a small button in the middle. Press it if you need someone to be there with you urgently. The bracelet also lets us know where you are in the vicinity."

The angel hesitated taking it, but gave her a curt nod before putting it on. Red side showing. He glanced at Crowley, who shook his head.

"Go on. I'll be here. Take as long as you need." Said the demon. With that, Aziraphale stepped further into what looked like an indoor botanical garden.

The woman turned to Crowley. "Excuse me, sir. May you tell me his name? I need to put it in the system, in case he does need interaction, that way, they'll know how to address him from the start." She said, hands ready to type on the desktop's keyboard.

"Aziraphale. A-Z-I-R-A-P-H-A-L E."

"Ah, how unique! Lovely name. And how shall I address you?" She asked, turning away from the computer.

"Anthony. Anthony J. Crowley." He said, extending his hand to shake her's. "When exactly did you guys start... this?"

"We opened two months ago. Already have several regulars. And they're showing progress, so that's a very reassuring." She said happily.

Crowley raised an eyebrow. "So, how does this work? Charge the client on the way out or...?"

"No charge, but we do accept donations."

He nodded, thinking for a moment. "Are all the financial questions you always get asked in that pamphlet I didn't read?"

She grinned. "Most likely."

"Good to know." He said. So he leaned against the doorframe and began to read. Apparently, Violet was a psychologist, as was her older sister, Rose. They provide funding for this place themselves. It won't go out of business, because it really isn't one to begin with. Whatever donations come in are used in the establishment to improve comfort. Crowley noticed the donations jar had a picture of soundproof foam on it. Which made sense if you wanted to escape the outside world a bit. He kept reading. The sisters were doing this in hopes of bettering the community. While one was seeing patients at their office, the other would be here, tending to walk-ins. It seemed almost as angelic as Aziraphale, trying to help others even if it cost something at his expense. Good lord, the whole sword incident just kept being relevant with him.

Once he finished with the pamphlet, he folded it and placed it in his jacket's pocket. He hadn't noticed a young teen had walked by him to the front desk until now. The teen looked like they were on the verge of tears before grabbing a bracelet and heading deep into the building.

"A regular, I presume."

She nodded while entering the person's name into the computer. "Yup. Micha's one of our biggest improvements. First time, she couldn't even figure out what was wrong. Now she knows exactly what she needs to calm down. We hope that's the case for everyone who visits."

~~~~~

Aziraphale all but gaped at his surroundings. It seemed so different from before. It felt so strange. The familiarity, mixed with so much unknown, jarred him. Where bookshelves he’d kept some of his most prized 1st editions had been, now sat a strange type of fountain. There were two employees in the immediate area, tending to plants, burning incense in hopes of making a calm environment. There were pillows all over the floor but Aziraphale preferred to sit on a bench near a corner of the room. He spotted a third staff member sitting by a window with a small, wooden instrument in his hands.

"That explains where the kalimba music was coming from." He said softly to himself.

He took in a deep breath, once again imagining what this placed looked like before. That made him want to cry, but he felt angry as well. _Why can't I move on? Why is my heart being so difficult?_ He thought, frustrated. As tears started to form, approaching footsteps caught his attention.

He turned to see a young teenager all but jogging towards the fountain and sitting on the pillow closest to it. She sat facing the water, it seemed like she was hyperventilating. Her bracelet was showing the green side and a staff member quickly approached her. Aziraphale couldn't hear what they were saying, which he didn't really mind. After all, it was none of his business. But he saw everything. How the employee helped the teen but also gave her space, how her demeanor changed as time passed, how she was able to regain control herself and she even looked happy afterwards. It made **him** feel happy.

After seeing that this place truly was doing good for some people, the angel decides to take another walk in the area. This time, he's silently placing blessings on the staff and their surroundings, to ensure anyone who comes here may find peace of their own. Aziraphale was grateful that his former home was being used this way. Even though he still missed it, and perhaps he always would, he could accept that it was no longer his. Before leaving, he decided to go into the back room one last time.

~~~~~

Some time passed and Crowley was finally talked into a grand tour by Violet. She made sure someone took her spot at the front, just in case another walk-in showed up.

The demon really had to hand it to her and her sister, the place looked great. He probably would've enjoyed the shop more if it had looked a bit like this, back in the day. Of course, then it wouldn't have been Aziraphale's. What **was** Aziraphale's however, were the countless blessings all over the place which were making the demon's nose itch.

"Got a real feng-shui vibe to this place." He said, breaking their silence, trying to ignore his nose.

She looked surprised. "Oh, you practice it?"

Crowley made a face and involuntarily twitched his nose. "Not exactly. Really, I do the **opposite** of feng-shui."

That got a giggle out of Violet.

"So, if you two can afford to keep this place running, why do you need donations?" He asked, sitting on a bench near one of the windows.

She sat next to him. "Well, we don't really **need** them. It's more a psychological thing. Some people can't accept that this safe space and help is given to them for free. Some think they don't deserve it and they insist on paying us. Since denying that payment would sometimes cause some sort of bad reaction, we decided to do this to not reject them."

She looked around to make sure no client was around to hear this and leaned in to whisper the next bit of information. "We had actually already bought all the soundproof foam before this happened. Since it wasn't a **big** must, we're taking our time putting it up all over the place. So now those who insist on paying feel like they're helping, even though they should only be focusing on themselves. Their money goes to several local charities."

Unusual. A bit convoluted, but if it worked, it worked. Crowley wouldn't question the logic too much because he could see the same teen from before in the middle of the main area, sitting on a big pillow, as calm as anything. Not at all like the sight he saw a while ago.

"If you go to the back room, you'll notice it's the only space that's completely lined with the foam. We call it the 'quiet room' for obvious reasons. It doesn't get much use but if someone needs it, it's there." She added.

Crowley hummed. "I'm sure that's where Aziraphale is right now."

"Well, let's find out." She took out her phone and opened an app which had the same image he had seen on her computer screen earlier. Just as he suspected, Aziraphale's name popped up next to the lonely dot in the quiet room. "You know him well."

"We spent a lot of time back there. It always made him feel safe." Given the nature of The Arrangement, it made him feel safe too. Of course, he had already Fallen, so he had a bit less to fear than Aziraphale.

She blinked and eyed him curiously. "I assume you mean before we opened here...?"

The redhead nodded. "He used to live here. That centuries old bookshop? Belonged to him."

"He was 'A. Z. Fell'?... That explains his reaction as soon as he entered." She reasoned. The selling of the shop had been through the city, not in a personal manner. Aziraphale gave up the paper work and decided to let the government do as they saw fit. The Hill sisters were looking for a big space in the middle of Soho. They went through all sorts of buildings and this one fit the bill perfectly for what they envisioned.

Crowley nodded again. "Yup... Been a year since we left. Thought that maybe, if he saw what it was now, he would stop missing the place. That he could finally-"

"Move on?" She finished, knowingly.

He turned to face her. "You're a shrink for a reason, huh?"

She shrugged. "When you're good at guessing what someone's issue is, you may as well study the human brain to see if you can help them."

"Not many people would do that. Good for you." It may have sounded like he was mocking her, but judging from his body language, Crowley was being sincere. He appreciated that someone would try to make sure others were taken care of just because it was the right thing to do, and not because they had a secret agenda. Once again, the humans were proving to be better than Aziraphale's lot.

Speaking of Aziraphale, his dot changed color on the screen from red to green. Then it blinked, which meant he pressed the button. Crowley told her that he would go to him.

Upon entering the back room, Crowley noted it was, in fact, completely lined with soundproof foam. There were a few pillows scattered about and there was another couch there. Which, somehow, looked even more worn than the old one he had taken many naps on over the decades. Aziraphale was sitting on one of the floor cushions with back was to the door.

"Angel, you alright?"

The blond turned and gave him a warm smile. Though his dried tear-tracks said otherwise, Crowley believed him when he nodded to answer his question. So he says nothing, saunters over to him, drops down and wraps him up in a vice of a hug. There's definitely sobbing coming from the angel but he doesn't mention anything of it. Instead, he pulled him up to the couch. They stayed there for a bit longer before they essentially said goodbye to the back room and walked out. As Aziraphale returned the bracelet, Violet gave Crowley both her and her sister's business cards, should they ever need a professional point of view.

With that, they left the former bookshop and climbed into the Bentley.

"You blessed everything in sight, didn't you? My skin was covered in goosebumps the deeper in there I went. Almost started sneezing at one point." Said Crowley as he turned the key.

Aziraphale pouted before reaching over to squeeze his arm. "Sorry darling, I didn't expect you to go in. You know I never mean to set off your allergies."

The demon nodded. "I know. Let's go home."

~~~~~

The ride home was quiet but not unpleasant. Once there, the demon made dinner, they ate and later they settled into the bathtub to relax. The angel was coaxed into leaning back onto Crowley, letting him wash his hair and massage his scalp. Despite this, it was actually Crowley who grew sleepy.

They were in bed now, Crowley had his arms around him, snuggled up to him and breathing softly. The angel carded his fingers through that bright, red hair.

"I love you so much, you have no idea..." He whispered.

The demon stirred, tightening his grip around the principality's torso. "I'd say I got a fairly good idea."

A sigh left him. "Well, I certainly don't say it enough..."

"You don't have to say it for me to know it." Replied the demon, an unrivaled softness in his expression and tone as he looked up at him. Aziraphale supposed it made sense. After all, Crowley went through millennia without saying it, but he made his feelings clear every chance he got, thanks to his actions.

Aziraphale placed a gentle hand on Crowley's face, the demon leaned into the touch. "Still. I should've been saying it for years. Maybe even centuries, I’ve lost track. I need to make up for lost time."

"If that's how you feel, I won't stop you." Said the redhead, kissing the angel's palm.

And he didn't stop him. They both lost count of how many times he said it in the span of an hour. The main reason he stopped saying it was because Crowley had fallen asleep.

By the time morning came, the angel said it many more times and Crowley did call his attention to it. They were in the kitchen, having just finished breakfast.

"You're not just saying it 'cause you feel bad about me comforting you all the time, right?... Do you think that'll keep me from getting sick of you and your homesick moments?"

Aziraphale's expression clearly read guilt. He looked down, nervously gnawing on the inside of his cheek.

The demon leaned over the table and grabbed both his hands. "Aziraphale, look at me."

"Darling, I'm sorry. I thought moving in would make our lives easier, not this... If only I could have The Almighty reach into my heart and just take this irrational feeling away." He let out a half-hearted chuckle before frowning. "Oh, who I am kidding? I doubt She'd agree to give me an appointment of any kind."

A lightbulb went off in Crowley's mind. "Maybe you need a different kind of appointment." He said.

The angel looked at him, his eyes squinting in a questioning manner. Crowley pouted in direction to the refrigerator, using his lips to point at the business cards he had received just yesterday, which hung there via magnets.

"Therapy?" He asked softly.

Crowley squeezed his hands. "Seems to work for the humans."

"We aren't human."

The demon shrugged. "May as well be, at this point. Hell, we're married! How more human can you get?"

Aziraphale seemed to be considering it. "Do you really think it would work?"

"Worth a shot. She can't reach into your heart, but she could go digging through your brain."

"If I go, will you go in with me?" He asked, locking eyes once more.

The redhead brought Aziraphale's hands to his lips and pressed a kiss onto both of them. "I'll do whatever you're comfortable with, angel. Just say the word."

And so, that's how they ended up booking an appointment with Rose Hill.

~~~~~

The clinic was emptier than expected, which probably a good thing, since Crowley didn't know what Aziraphale's reaction would be in this scenario. The receptionist gave them the paperwork which needed filling. Not long after that, a young man exited the doctor's office and Rose was at the door, inviting the husbands in once the previous patient had everything sorted. Crowley observed Rose as she did this. Her facial features were very similar to her sister's but the style was completely different. Violet seemed to enjoy the more casual attire, while Rose was wearing a fitted, pastel green pantsuit with white shoes and a white belt. Her hair was long and tightly braided, reaching all the way down to her lower back. She had somehow managed to tie it all up in a bun before addressing them properly.

The couple walked in and shut the door behind them.

"Hello, Mr. Fell. Mr. Crowley." She extended her arm and shook their hands in a friendly manner. "You may sit wherever you like."

The room was a decent size, very brightly colored, and it smelled of flower petals. There was a big, white sofa right next to the door, the matching loveseat was by the only window. There was also a beanbag chair, a floor cushion and a barstool. Crowley assumed the multiple chair options were to either: to use this as an exercise to understand who they were treating, or, the more **likely** option: to let the patient find what they were the most comfortable with to ease the sharing and speaking process.

She rolled her chair from behind to in front of her desk, grabbed her clipboard and sat, waiting for the pair to choose where they would sit. Not wanting to drag this along too much, Aziraphale sat on the couch and Crowley followed suit.

"So, my sister told me you were a walk-in at our facility in Soho about a week ago. Did your visit help you in any way?"

"A bit, but not as much as I had hoped." Answered the angel.

She scribbled something onto the board, looked up and gave him a patient smile. "Well, let's see what we can do about that."

One session turned into three, then five, next thing they knew, they had weekly appointments to find the source of the homesickness. Naturally, they needed a believable cover story. Obviously, Aziraphale was a bookseller (who had lived in his shop for over 20 years), and Crowley worked in a call center in a drab office building. They told Rose they met in a garden 16 years ago. Not technically a lie, although, it was not a botanical garden. They had chatted a bit for that first encounter, there was a very bad pick-up line, they laughed and they parted ways. A few days passed and they bumped into each other again at a coffee shop. And when Crowley ended walking into Aziraphale's bookshop, the blond thought it an excellent idea to ask out the flirtatious redhead to lunch. He agreed in a heartbeat and it all took off from there.

The apocalypse’s ‘human’ version went like this: The missing Antichrist was their lost godson. They said they were friends with Adam's parents long before the boy came along and that was how they got the 'godfathers' title. Since they were devastated to find out he was gone, Rose didn't bat an eye when they'd refer to this as 'the end of the world'. Now, in this story, Adam wasn't actually lost, but he was found after a few days, completely fine. He had been staying in his friend Brian's treehouse. His other friends Pepper and Wensleydale knew too, but said nothing because of their plan. They were doing an experiment to see how long they could get away with him stowing away in there, having food and water snuck up for him, him sneaking into the house to use the toilet and shower while Brian's parents weren't around or were distracted. He only lasted 3 days in hiding because the other children saw how distraught his parents were and convinced him to stop with the experiment. After the initial relief which washed over the Young's, the boy was grounded for a very long time, as were his friends, for not telling the truth.

For a bit more background about themselves, the archangels were Aziraphale's incredibly religious family, who had effectively shunned him out of the family once they found out he was gay. The demons were Crowley's evil coworkers. Rather than Ligur being reduced to a puddle of sulfuric goo, he was fired after Crowley ratted him out with HR for being a homophobic asshole. Not that it made much of a difference anyway, since Crowley also got fired not long after, when Hastur ratted him out for all the personal calls he made to Aziraphale while he was on the clock.

A common theme Rose quickly noticed about their stories was the bookshop. Every time they wanted to be together, they'd be in the shop. Not just in the shop, even, in the back room. Always in the back room. This was also where they had been fretting about Adam, hiding from Aziraphale's family, after Crowley's firing and any other time he popped by for a visit. Violet had told Rose about the room making Aziraphale feel safe, she just hadn't expected so many scenarios.

That, as far as she could tell, was the root of the blond man's problem. For the longest time, he had been hiding there whenever something bad happened. And, seemingly, he hid there preemptively whenever he was with Crowley, in hopes that nothing bad would happen to them. The poor thing was, subconsciously anyway, afraid that the best thing in his life was going to be ripped away from him. That was the human interpretation, of course. The angel and demon connected the dots to their former sides.

Aziraphale had tried being a good angel for the better part of six millennia. Yes, he was never a perfect employee, but there's a big difference between indulging in earthly pleasures and working (and falling in love) with a demon to thwart Heaven's plans. He was still, deep down, afraid of Heaven and Hell coming back for them. While Crowley had essentially moved on after their trials, the same could not be said for the angel. Even with the lack of checking in from their former sides, Aziraphale had been worrying.

Rose came to the conclusion that once their relationship properly started, it became Aziraphale's main focus and he hadn't thought about **needing** a safe space for quite some time. Until their godson went missing and that triggered his fear response. Given that they had said 'the end of the world' was a more recent event than the family and work stuff, which was both true and not, she concluded that this happening was what made Aziraphale homesick. They were in a new home and he didn't feel safe when something potentially disastrous happened.

After that breakthrough, the angel considered stopping the appointments. Although, he quickly changed his mind, after considering all the emotional baggage he had from the way Heaven always treated him. He figured, if he can get a human spin on all that, perhaps she could help with that too. Not to mention Crowley. If Aziraphale had plenty of issues, Crowley had double that, he was just better at pretending they didn't bother him. Their weekly sessions continued.

Finally it all made sense to them. It wasn't the shop at all, really. It was the association with safety. The bookshop was just a constant for centuries. What Aziraphale needed now was to learn how to channel that feeling of safeness whenever and wherever he needed it. It would take time, no doubt, but Rose was adamant that she was sure he'd be able to do it. As was Crowley, who made it abundantly clear that if a new issue popped up, they would handle to together.

~~~~~

They were driving home one night from a long day at the beach. It had been months since Aziraphale's last homesickness episode and they were feeling like they were out of the woods. Curious thing he is, Crowley brought it up.

"You're still good? Haven't wanted to go back to the shop?" He asked softly, breaking the silence.

The angel shook his head, his hand reaching over to the crook of the demon's elbow and pulled himself closer. Tonight was one of the few instances where Aziraphale hadn't put the seatbelt on because Crowley was cruising at an actual cruising speed for a normal car. "No, love. Not even a hint of an urge."

"Good. Thank Someone..." Replied the snake. That last bit was a mumble, but the angel heard him as clear as day. The rest of the ride was just as silent as before, but with Aziraphale's head on Crowley's left shoulder.

The pair wandered all over the house after entering. No reason for it other than to stretch their legs after so many miles cooped up in the Bentley. Into the study they went, where Crowley got bored and snapped on the gramophone. Rather than the usual cords from Queen or the familiar keys from one of Aziraphale's favorite classical pieces, it was something else entirely. ["I'll be your mirror" by The Velvet Underground.](https://youtu.be/WXETLPCogao) Aziraphale hummed once the demon wrapped an arm around his waist.

A warm smile tugged at his lips. "Our wedding song. Are you feeling romantic tonight, darling?"

Crowley shrugged. "Maybe. Might as well, after the day we had. It'd be fitting."

It **would** be fitting. Walking along the beach barefoot, picnicking on the grass, basking in the sun atop the warm sand, floating along the waves, snogging every chance they got. Why not finish it off with a bit of slow dancing? Well, 'swaying along to the music' may have been a more accurate term than 'dancing'. Aziraphale placed his arms around Crowley's neck.

"Whatever would I do without you?" Asked the blond sweetly.

"Be very bored, I reckon." Came the smug reply.

"I'm serious, Crowley." His left hand cupped part of the redhead's face. "You've always taken care of me, no matter what. I don't think I would've even **thought** of therapy as an option on my own."

He tightened his grip on Aziraphale's waist and kissed his nose. "You're clever, angel. I'm sure you would've thought of it at some point. Or come up with something else."

"Perhaps, but the fact is, you **did** think of it. And I'm grateful for it. Grateful for **you**. **So** grateful for you..."

The demon smirked. "I know. I can hear you in my sleep sometimes. You think your little blessing don't affect me while I'm unconscious, but they do. Feels like you're trying to tickle me awake."

"Sorry, love." Said the blond, a little pout.

Crowley pressed their foreheads together. Eyes shut, savoring the moment. "It's alright. Reminds me you're not just pretending."

The angel snapped his fingers, their song stopped playing and the demon's glasses disappeared. Suddenly feeling naked without them, he opened his eyes. He cupped Crowley's face with both hands this time, ensuring his attention was solely on his husband. "Darling, you **must** ignore that nagging voice of insecurity that lives in your mind. All it does is lie to you." He said sternly.

"Hard to ignore when you've had it for 6,000 years, angel. You know that as well as I do." The redhead's yellow eyes were so soft, gentle, relaxed.

Aziraphale nodded and gave him a small kiss on his snake mark. "Then tell it to shut up. If I was able to do it, I know you can too. Eventually. I'm fairly sure Rose would agree." He said, letting go of his face and putting his hands on the demon's shoulders.

"She's good at what she does... Have you been able to create that new safe space yet?" Asked the skinny being.

The angel nodded. "Two, actually. Would you like to know what they are?"

"Yeah. Of course."

Aziraphale took a deep breath, seemingly trying to get all his words in order. "Firstly, it's in my own self comfort. I may not always be the most confident individual, but I've been able to look past what the angels had always seen as negative traits. I've accepted that their views no longer apply to me. I'm now aware that I'm truly happy being a chubby, bookish, fussy, bastard of an angel."

"I'm happy you're like that too." Said Crowley, putting his chin on the blond's shoulder to give him a proper hug.

"Being aware of that, **reminding** myself of it, that's one of my safe spaces now. It's not physical, which helps prevent our previous issue." Explained the blond.

"And the other?"

" **You** , my darling."

The demon rolled his eyes, smiling. "You **cheesy** little-" He was cut off by a snap which turned the gramophone back on.

They continued dancing into the night, silently promising that no matter what happened, they would go through and overcome it together.


End file.
